Nerdy nostalgia and old junk

Seeing as I have been in a silly, playful mood the past few days (Yeah, don't ask...I have no idea why, I just embrace it! hahaha!), I thought I would post something silly and fun in a nerdy, nostalgic kind of way.

I don't tend to hang on to alot of material things (aka: JUNK!) throughout my life. I like to keep it simple, and after all, I live in a studio apartment, which forces me to throw even more stuff away if I don't want to feel claustrophobic! Strangely though, I'm one of those people who feels a definite parallel between how much "stuff" one accumulates in their home with how organized and simplified (or not) one's life will or can be.

Those that are hoarders (or to be more PC: "pack rats"...wait, IS that more PC?!?! Oh well.) may experience a sense of loss if forced to pitch that Target receipt or last year's beatup tshirt in the garbage...but not me. Ask my mother. She used to "scold" me numerous times over the years for getting rid of something, usually some article of clothing that was given to me as a gift, but nevertheless looked awful or not "me." I would tell her it wasn't personal, I just didn't need it! I suppose I should have done the humanitarian-like thing and at least donated the shit I didn't want, but what can I say: I'm just lazy. The garbage can is alot closer than the nearest thrift store. Even now, when my mom contemplates buying me something, she just has to throw in the whole "Well, you'll probably just throw it away...." in for good measure. I'm thinking, "Geez Mom, I'm not THAT bad!" Haha.

In fact, what is so quirky about me is what I do save. While I may not have clothing that dates back further than a year or even keep books I know for a fact I won't pick up off my bookshelf again except maybe to blow off dust while doing a little apartment cleaning.....I still have my old journals and spiral notebooks I wrote in since I was a teen up until present time. I also have all the pictures of old maps my high school US History teacher Mr. Swartz made us draw as one of the assigned class requirements. I think I kept them as proof that I do have an inkling of drawing abilities, even if it is just of world maps! I also have tons of papers I wrote in undergrad, as well as some from my undergrad days.....which brings me to something I thought would be fun to include in today's blog. Hehehe.

I think it was about a month ago. I happened to be wandering around my apartment, looking through old stuff during a humdrum day when I didn't have much else to do...something I tend to do now and then. I came across a paper I wrote for my English composition class freshman year at University of South Florida: September 1996, nearly eleven years ago!

I find it funny, considering my recent plunge into the blogger writing world. Once you see how horribly I wrote back then, maybe you'll begin to understand why it took me so long to get where I am today, more confident and happy with the content and quality of what I write. Even more ironic when I think about the handful of people who have told me I am "inspiring" and/or seem to have motivated them to creatively pursue their OWN writing endeavors.

But maybe it's not about being perfect, but being authentic, "warts and all" as my Mom would say! Sure, we are apt to idolize famous figures in media, history,etc....but in the end, isn't it the "Everyman/woman" that we can most identify with, someone who has had a common thought, feeling, or experience like the rest of us, even if not completely the same? With that said, read my paper (word for unedited word) and weep....with laughter. :)

(****Foreword: This paper is based on an actual embarrassing experience I had when I was the new nerdy, unfashionable kid in town my 5th grade year....though not quite so dramatic as the "picture I paint" in the paper! I'll spare you my English teacher's remarks, though amazingly, I still ended up with a B. I think my good vocabulary was the only thing that impressed him and saved my grade!)

"Children's behavior, in the 90's, is becoming more cruel. For example, name calling and excluding new quiet students from the crowd has become a fear for many in such a situation. Children mainly learn from television that certain behavior is accepted. In addition, some parents are not stressing the right values and moral standards in regards to human interaction. Children should be prepared before their essential school years arrive to treat other classmates with respect and kindness. It seems they are going from bad to worse as the years progress. I can recall a day that I received cruelty firsthand. It occurred when I moved to Great Bridge, Virginia. I was eleven years old and felt completely alone."

"I was an ordinary child, or so I thought. Later, I found out how vicious children could be. At the time, I lived in a close-knit town in Derry, New Hampshire. Everyone was friendly and helpful to one another. All the neighborhood children would get together after school or on the weekends to play, usually a few rounds of baseball or something similar. There was no fear about being singled out or condemned. There were my friends, no doubt about it. I was a fairly happy child. My grades in school were excellent and my social life was great too. Although my parents were divorced, I lived with my mother and brother, and loved them dearly. My mother dated a nice man I liked, Oliver, and they soon married in July. Unfortunately, his new job as a merchant marine required all of us to move to a new area, Great Bridge, Virginia."

"I struggled to adjust to all the overwhelming changes in my life and found it difficult to interact with the neighborhood children and even those in my class. They were different from my friendly crowd in Derry. They seemed to ahve an attitude and did not want me intruding on their social life. In addition, they thought I was strange. My clothes were odd, my northern accent was funny, and I was too school-oriented for them. I was definitely not a pocket protector nerd, but I still did not measure up to their upper class expectations. It became a major problem for me as my fifth grade year progressed. Besides being friendless in an unfamiliar new town, my grades were slipping. I was suffering emotionally and could not focus fully on my studies. So, of course, that also became a factor in my growing depression. My self esteem became very low, as I felt insecure more and more each day. Months later, after I had finally settled down and decided not to let it bother me, the whole situation came back to haunt me."

"On a wintery morning in late November, I slowly stepped onto the bus, for my usual daily route to school. As I proceeded to walk down the aisle full of quiet faces staring at me, the bus driver, Jim, accelerated on the gas pedal. I had a full load of books in my bag that carried much weight on my back. Unaware of Jim, I eagerly searched for a vacant seat. As he started to drive off, the bus jolted full speed ahead, and I was taken off guard. I fell backwards in the aisle! Already embarrassed by my fall, I tried to get up and realized I was stuck! I was not a child of wide bodily measurements. My heavy, oversized backpack was the source of my misfortune. The narrow aisle and my bag made it impossible to get up. Anxiety rose, as seconds turned to minutes, and no one offered a helping hand. Children from the front, extending to the very back, exchanged ridiculing remarks and looks of disbelief. Oblivious to my scenario, Jim kept driving nonchalantly. Since I had no friends to assist me, I laid there, in the middle of the aisle, for what seemed like an eternity. In my mind, I searched for a reasonable explanation. The silence was unbearable and the truth hurt more. My fellow classmates wanted nothing to do with me, including helping me up. Was I a monster? After all, I thought I was a human being. These people were cold-blooded, with no empathy for me at all. I should have resented them, but I pitied them instead. They had much to learn about human compassion. "

"As Jim pulled into the school parking lot, people in the first few rows gathered their belongings and exited the bus. Children behind me waited impatiently, expecting me to jump right up. Somehow, I managed to get my troublesome bag off my back and rose, totally mortified, to depart from the terrible incident."

"Reflecting back, I am glad it happened in some ways. I realize now, as a young adult, what it taught me about compassion and adapting to changes in life. Moreover, I can laugh at myself and view things from a different perspective. Life can be a little less complicated when you have a good sense of humor. Over the years, I have adapted to people's lifestyles and my friends, today, accept me the way I am."

One final word: "I can laugh at myself and view things from a different perspective. Life can be a little less complicated when you have a good sense of humor." Hmmm, some things never change. Haha.